


The 43rd Day

by mcgarrygirl78



Series: Everything After [1]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Drama, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-11
Updated: 2011-12-11
Packaged: 2017-10-27 04:42:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/291739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How could he have let her go over the cliff by herself?  He damn sure wasn’t going to let her climb back up that way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The 43rd Day

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS FOR SELF-FULFILLING PROPHECY!! Of course I completely blame Erica Messer for this Dave and Erin moving into my cerebellum not even an hour after the episode was over. As if I need more people in there. But they wanted their story told too so I did my best.

She had no idea who was at the door but Erin put her book down on the coffee table and walked over when she heard the knock. She’d gotten used to the quiet. It used to drive her out of her mind. She used to always feel like she needed to be doing something, making noise; accomplishing things. Now she needed to stop feeling like that.

If she didn’t, she was never going to be OK. Now quiet was almost comfortable and actually a really nice feeling. The nice feeling turned into one of dread when she looked out of the peephole and saw David Rossi in front of her door. He leaned closer to knock again.

Erin considered walking away and pretending she wasn’t home. But when she saw what was in his hand she changed her mind. _Please don’t let me regret this_ , she thought as she took a deep breath and opened the door. Dave gave her a warm smile that felt more to her like a nail in her coffin than a friendly gesture. My God, she was so messed up.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I brought you a cup of coffee.” He replied, walking in without being invited. Of course her opening the door in the first place was the invitation, wasn’t it? She could’ve pretended she wasn’t there. Dave knew she’d done so on more than one occasion.

“What kind of coffee?” Erin didn’t want to ask but it smelled good. And coffee and water was about all she was drinking these days.

“It’s a venti Kitamu. Straight up and dressed to kill; just the way you like it.”

Dave was holding a carrier from Starbucks. There was a 24oz. coffee and then this tiny cup that Erin could only assume was a short with a shot of espresso. It was enough to keep her up for two days. It might keep Rossi’s motor running for the next few hours.

“I appreciate it.” she took the cup from the carrier and walked back into her living room.

Dave followed, looking around her spotless, trendy condo. She’d only been living there for about a year. Her husband asked her for a divorce and then made her leave her own house. He wasn’t uprooting his children, Eli said; this would be better for all of them. Erin seemed to have better things to do than raise her family so she could do them somewhere else.

It was all quite cold and appalling to Dave. No marriage was perfect; he knew that from experience. But to throw a woman out of her own house disgusted him. He knew Erin had a rough relationship with her children. She adored her son Edward, who was the middle child, and the feeling was mutual.

Her oldest daughter, Nora, loved her mother and just tried to be strong when she was brushed aside for work. Her youngest daughter, Mary Katherine, barely spoke to her mother. When she did it was usually something venomous. MK, as she was called, was mirror verse Erin. She was smart but cold and unpleasant.

Dave had only met her on a handful of occasions and wanted each one to be over quicker than the last. He knew what this past year had been like for her. Except apparently he didn’t because when the house of cards came falling down he was just as shocked as everyone else. Word around the FBI was exhaustion, with whispers about a nervous breakdown. Louder whispers were that Strauss was an alcoholic and had been one for years.

It looked like The Wicked Witch of the West finally met her bucket of water. People weren't exactly singing Ding Dong the Witch is Dead but Dave could hear the melody around the office. The Deputy Director and Director supported her, in public…he had no idea what went on behind closed doors. While all of this was going on Erin seemed to be once again on her own. That couldn’t be good for her, whatever she was going through.

“How are you?” Dave sat in one of the overstuffed crème colored chairs and looked at the book she was reading.

It was _The Second Sex_ by Simone de Beauvoir. While that was an interesting book, he didn’t see it as being very entertaining. She had a nearly floor or ceiling bookcase on the other side of the room. Dave was hopeful she had a few Stephen Kings, Vince Flynns, or Anna Quindlens in there. Maybe on his next visit he would bring books.

“I'm fine.” She nodded, sipping her coffee.

It was still very hot but felt good going down. She’d been lying around reading since after her shower. It was nearly time for lunch. Erin knew that by the way the coffee hit the bottom of her belly.

It was so hard to get used to doing everything “normally” again. She had to do it in a way she hadn't in too long to recall. How sad was it that lunch had become confusing. It was quite easy when it was a cocktail. Now nothing was easy and it probably never would be again. Her whole life had to change or be over. Erin was doing everything she could to make that make sense. So far she wasn’t having as much luck as she’d hoped.

“Erin.” Dave sat up some in the chair, leaned toward her and really looked at her.

“What?”

“How are you?”

“David, why are you here?”

“You’ve hardly come out of this condo for over a month. I'm worried about you and while I have no intention of smothering you, I want to know if you're OK. You can't make me stop caring no matter how much you push me away.”

“I'm not pushing you away.” Erin barely whispered it as she stood up from the couch and walked away. Damn him, damn him for coming here and making her emotional. She couldn’t handle this right now. “I just need you to leave, OK.”

“Why?” Dave stood up as well.

“I can't handle this right now.”

“What's the matter? What happened to you?”

“David, I want you to leave.” Erin took a deep breath and hoped the words weren't as shaky as she was. Even the coffee cup was trembling now. Her mouth was starting to water…she knew the craving was back. Hell, it was always there but the watering mouth was the first sign that Erin was in trouble.

“OK, OK.” He nodded, sensing something was terribly wrong. He didn’t know what to do about it but it honestly frightened him. Erin looked small, frail, and tired. Maybe it was only to his trained eye because even her ultra casual grey tights and oversized pink sweater, she was still the picture of controlled beauty and grace. “I'm sorry Erin. I didn’t come here to make you uncomfortable.”

She didn’t answer him; she didn’t know what to say. She just stood there in the middle of her living room floor looking helpless. Erin didn’t even have the strength to throw him out. Dave got the message though because he made his own way to the door. He opened it, walked out, and closed it behind him.

Dave didn’t know how long he stood in the hallway. He wanted to go back in, wrap his arms around her, and tell her everything would be OK. Except he had no idea if that were true. To begin, he didn’t know what happened in the first place. All he knew was Erin took a leave of absence.

The rest was rumor and speculation. Getting the information straight from the source didn’t look to be happening anytime soon. Still he stood out there for a little while to make sure he didn’t hear any screaming or loud noises. Dave was no Derek Morgan but he would kick the door in if he had to get to her.

But he heard nothing. There was just a heavy, deafening silence. He put the palm of his hand on the door, took a deep breath, and walked away. She wasn’t ready yet. Whatever it was, Erin wasn’t ready yet. He hoped his attempt to help didn’t make anything worse.

***

Dave was in bed with his dog and his notebook. The characters were talking to him tonight and they wouldn’t shut up. It was after 1am; he was sure to regret this when the sun came up. There was no use in trying to sleep though. When they wanted your time, they took it.  
That was the one thing he learned over the years as a writer.

So he wrote, loving the feel of the pen on paper, the creation of words, phrases, dialogue, and description. The ringing cell phone jarred him. It had been a while since he got a call at this time of night. Dave couldn’t say his booty call days were that far behind him but his first thought was Hotch and a case. He was shocked when he saw the name on the display. Unsure of how to answer, Dave just picked it up.

“Hello.”

“It’s been 43 days since I've had my last drink. It has been the longest 43 days of my life. Longer than the Academy, longer than watching my marriage deteriorate, longer than being hunched over a toilet wishing I was dead and knowing I had to be in a meeting in a couple of hours. Hell, it’s probably longer than natural childbirth, which is a bitch David. It’s been 43 days since my last drink.”

“Is it stupid to ask how you feel?” Dave asked.

“I feel like shit.” She replied.

“You need to get out of that house.”

“Where am I supposed to go?”

“You wanna go running?” Dave asked.

“Oh God,” Erin laughed. There wasn’t much joy in it but it wasn’t mirthless either. “I think I would rather do anything but.”

“OK,” he laughed some too. “How was the coffee, Erin?”

“It was amazing. Thank you so much. I acted like an ass today but…I'm not where I need to be yet. I have no earthly idea how I'm going to get there.”

“Who are you talking to?”

“I'm seeing someone privately and I'm in an outpatient program for the next 17 days.”

“You did inpatient for 28 days?” Dave asked.

“I don’t want to discuss that.” she replied.

“OK. What can I do? Tell me anything and I’ll do it.”

“Can you bring me more coffee?”

Her voice sounded so sweet when she asked. It reminded Dave of the old Erin, the one he knew so long ago. He was a fucking profiler, how did he not see this coming. She had all the earmarks of a classic addict. Erin was always an overachiever…everything had to be perfect. Her job had to be, her family had to be, her outfits, her answers, and her life had to be perfect.

Dave never would've imagined alcohol. It was a downer and left the addict spinning out of control. If it was one thing Erin Strauss needed, it was control. He could see pills but not booze. There it was staring him in the face. Why hadn't he paid more attention? How could he have let her go over the cliff by herself? He damn sure wasn’t going to let her climb back up that way.

“No, I'm not bringing it to you Erin. Meet me tomorrow morning, bright and early for breakfast. We’ll have something ridiculously overindulgent…we’ll do it the Italian way. Will that be too much?”

“I think so.” her voice was quiet.

“Good, then make it the Jefferson Hotel at 8:30am.” He said.

“David…”

“C'mon, I'm buying.” Dave pressed just a little. “You're not only getting coffee, there will be steak and eggs. There will be biscuits that melt in your mouth. We’ll order freshly squeezed orange juice and tropical fruit salad.

“We’ll make up conversations that the people around us are having about everything from infidelity to shoe shopping. I'm gonna make you laugh and you'll be mad about it. Wear a Strauss outfit so I can flirt mercilessly with you as you pretend you don’t thoroughly enjoy it.”

“One of the benefits of being on a leave of absence is that I get to sleep in.” she said.

“When’s the last time that happened?”

“Am I allowed to count hangovers?”

He hadn't meant to laugh. He really hadn't but that was the last answer he would've ever expected to hear from Erin. It made Dave’s heart sing when he heard her laughing as well. She was really laughing and Dave was sure it had been over a decade since he heard that sound.

It was genuine and melodic and self-deprecating. Those were three things Erin hadn't been in quite some time. That woman was in there somewhere. She’d been drowning in paperwork, perfection, and Patron.

“Hangovers do not count.” He said through the laughter.

“Damn, alright…if you make it nine then I’ll be there.”

“Nine o’clock it is. We’ll eat, we’ll talk; it'll be nice.”

“OK.”

Erin sounded unsure; Dave could hear it in her voice. But he knew she would be there. Something in her needed to be. She needed to break free before the walls closed in on her in that condo. He would hold her hand the whole way if he had to.

Dave felt like he let her down and never wanted to do that again. He couldn’t make it about him and his guilt though. This had to be about Erin, getting better and staying better. He had a feeling this wasn’t her first attempt at trying to get clean. It needed to be her last. So much was riding on this; Dave could feel it.

“Do you want to talk now?” he asked.

“No, I want to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Sweet dreams, Erin.”

“It’s been a while since I've had those.” She replied.

“It'll come back. Good things are going to come back and this time you'll enjoy every moment.”

“I think I might be even more afraid of living than I am of whatever the hell I was doing before.”

“It’s easier when you can share it with someone.” Dave said.

“I was thinking about getting a dog.”

“I always saw you as more of a cat girl. They're a little less responsibility but still cuddly and cute. We’ll have breakfast, get a cat, and maybe hit a bookstore too.”

“I'm sure you have better things to do then spend your day with me.” Erin replied.

“Nope.” He shook his head. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, David.”

The line went dead and Dave put down the phone. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then took another. He didn’t know how to feel about any of this. She needed someone; he knew that for sure. Dave knew he couldn’t smother her or mother her.

She needed a friend and he’d always been good at that. Except apparently somewhere he missed the part where Erin was an alcoholic and needed help. Their relationship had been good, then contentious, then nonexistent, then hot and heavy, then contentious again, and then neutral. He needed to get out of neutral mode and back into drive. He would do it first thing in the morning. Sleep was what he needed now if he planned to be up and out early on a Sunday morning.

***


End file.
